New Zealand v Australia, first test, Basin Reserve, 29 February – 3 March 2024

Scorecard

Spare a thought for Jeetan Patel, watching this test match in a hotel room in India, where he was as England’s spin bowling coach. There was every indication that this was his old stomping ground of the Basin Reserve, with a pitch that was Shrek–green at the toss and spectators huddling together against the southerly. But it couldn’t be. To prosper In two decades as Wellington’s lead spinner at the Basin, Jeets had to learn flight, variation in pace, clever angles, any trick at all, because the ball would not deviate. Here it turned like cream in the desert, even when propelled by an ex-wicketkeeper.

Think also of Ajaz Patel, the Flying Dutchman of New Zealand cricket, condemned to sail the seven spinning seas without ever making it home. This pitch was made for him. People who have been watching at the Basin for many more years than my 18 had never seen the like. None of this was apparent to anybody at the start of the game. New Zealand left out Santner and put Australia in. It was all quicker bowling until Ravindra was given a go before the new ball was due and immediately got one to straighten past Cummins’ outside edge.

I missed the first two sessions but was there for the rest of the game. When I arrived at tea the locals were reasonably content with 147 for four, all the more so with 279 for nine at the close, the acceleration down to Cameron Green, who moved from 50 to 100 in 46 balls while the wickets kept falling at the other end.

Green came into the Australian side in 2020, talked up as the next big thing, particularly by the Fox commentators, in full cheerleading mode. The delivery remained short of the promise, and he was dropped during last year’s Ashes in favour of the more rustic-but-reliable skills of Mitch Marsh. David Warner’s retirement gave him a way back, though at the cost of booting Steve Smith up to the top of the order, a project that is not going well.

So we started the second morning more optimistically than we had expected. Once the formality of dismissing Australia for under 300 had been attended to, the work of matching, or even surpassing that total would begin. What fools we were.

The pre-lunch session was excruciating, and ended only in the extra time that is statutory when nine wickets are down. Green and Josh Hazlewood put on 116 for the tenth wicket, two runs more than the McGrath/Gillespie stand at Brisbane in 2004 that many Kiwi fans mark as a nadir of our fortunes, the image of Gillespie leaving the field riding his bat like a horse being engraved into our subconscious. At least Green is a proper batter who had a century on the board at the start of the partnership. He is, however, a notoriously poor starter, so putting a bit of pressure on for the first few overs of the new day seemed the obvious move. Instead, New Zealand focused entirely on getting Green off strike and Hazlewood on. Why, when there is one wicket to take to end the innings, captains give up trying to get one of the batters out, remains a mystery, all the more so when Southee maintained the strategy even as Hazlewood unleashed cover drives of Goweresque languidity.

The New Zealand cricketing psyche is a delicate thing when it sees baggy green caps on the same field. The cautious optimism that it had taken all the first day to nurture was shrivelling by the drinks break and dead by lunch. It was a comfort to us up in the RA Vance Stand that one of our group is a psychiatrist. Had he brought a portable couch with him, he could have made a mint.

Latham was the first to go, indecisive to a testing line just outside off by Starc, playing on. Two balls later, Williamson pushed to mid off and set off for a slightly risky single. One day, when gravity messes up and the moon crashes into Earth, those of us there at the Basin that afternoon will be reminded of the way in which Williamson and Young were drawn inevitably together in mid-pitch collision, leaving the former short as Labuschagne swooped in with a direct hit at the bowler’s end.

Three balls later, Ravindra drove at Hazlewood but did not get over the top of it and was caught by Lyon just backward of square on the offside. Whenever a batter under the age of 26 or so gets out in such a fashion early in their innings words like “impetuous” and “hot-headed” are bandied about, but the shot was a good response to the ball, but them went slightly wrong in the execution.

Up in the in the RA Vance we always note the passing of New Zealand’s all-time low of 26, but today did so with more-than-usual relief (we are not a cheery crew). But it was a grind. Mitchell went for 11 in 37 balls. Next ball, Young followed for a 50-ball nine. Twenty-nine for five.

Tom Blundell has mounted so many rescue missions for New Zealand that one expects him to be winched down from a helicopter at the start of his innings. He did it again here, in the company of Glenn Phillips. Before the match there was a discussion on the radio about whether Phillips or Young should take the last place in the New Zealand XI (as it turned out, the injury to Conway meant that both played). The expert vote went for Young because of his superior technique, but I would favour Phillips because of his obvious relish for the tussle. The kryptonite of the baggy green has no effect on him. He went on the attack, but judiciously so. His first six scoring shots were all fours, and all around the ground. Blundell matched him, and the 50 partnership came up in 48 balls.

Nathan Lyon now entered the attack. Phillips took him for three boundaries in his first two overs, but in his third over Lyon deceived Blundell coming down the pitch, resulting in a straightforward bat-pad catch. Two balls later, Kuggeleijn was caught on the legside boundary from a witless slog. Kuggeleijn should not be in the New Zealand team. First, he isn’t good enough. Geoff Lemon and Daisy Cutter explain the other reason.

The second and fourth balls that Matt Henry received from Lyon both went over the legside boundary for six. He made 27 of the eighth-wicket stand of 48, which ended when Phillips was caught at deep-square leg off Hazlewood. Southee copped the third duck of the innings, bamboozled by Lyon. Henry’s final flourish was 15 of four balls from Hazlewood before New Zealand were all out for 179.

The grim fact is that in the last four tests between these teams, the only time that New Zealand have avoided the follow on was in the final test in 2020, when five runs that Australia were penalised for running on the protected area of the pitch in the second innings saved it retrospectively.

Though the result of this match camouflaged it effectively, Australia have problems with their batting. It has a vulnerability to it that was absent a year or so ago. Moving Steve Smith to the top of the order has not yet paid off. Here, he played on to Southee for a duck from the third ball of the innings. The New Zealand captain also got Labuschagne with a legside strangle before the close of the second day, but the three fours from three balls that nightwatchman Lyon dispatched off him the following morning were a more accurate measure of his current form. I am always reluctant to write off quick bowlers since telling people that Willis was obviously done and should be dropped the week before Headingley ’81. But it does appear that a fine career is at its dusk, if not a little later.

At 81 for three it appeared that Australia were on the way to a big lead. Enter Glenn Phillips, New Zealand’s second choice part-time spinner after Ravindra, a bowler who has taken under one wicket a game in his first-class career, in the first part of which his second string was keeping wicket.

In his fourth over Phillips tossed one up well outside off—let’s say deliberately—and Khawaja came down the pitch to it, only for the ball to turn for Blundell to make an excellent stumping. Listen carefully, and you could hear the sound of a tea cup crashing to the floor in India.

After lunch, Phillips took the next four. Travis Head holed out at long off, Marsh was caught at short leg first ball, Carey drove a tempter outside off—let’s say it was deliberate—to short cover, and Green went to a bat-pad catch. Thus Phillips had his first five-for in any form of the game, and his test bowling average is half his first-class average. He makes things happen, and his celebrations (those of a six-year-old according to Phillips himself) became more exuberant with each victim. It would have been six had Cummins not been dropped twice in the deep. Matt Henry finished the innings off.

New Zealand’s target was 389 (273 without that tenth-wicket partnership). Frankly, there was never a chance. But many of us had been there a year before to see a triumph against England in the face of no lesser odds. It’s the hope that keeps you going, hope that was by no means extinguished when New Zealand finished the third day on 111 for three.

Ravindra had batted beautifully, reaching his fifty just before the close. It was better value than his double hundred against the own-brand South Africans a few weeks before. Now he was looking comfortable against the best attack in the world. He was shortly to be named New Zealand’s Player of the Year. Those of us who have been watching him for the last five years or so now share him with the world. Ravindra was well supported by Daryl Mitchell.

It was less surprising that the fourth day should be Nathan Lyon’s, than that the third belonged to Phillips. He had dismissed Latham and Williamson the previous evening. In the seventh over of the morning, he snuffed out the hope. He packed the field square on the offside, then dropped one short to Ravindra—this one we can say with some certainty was deliberate—but it was not quite what it seemed, the shot was marginally mistimed and the catch taken.

The rest was a procession, and we were done by lunchtime, only Mitchell resisting until he was caught and bowled by Hazlewood to finish the game. Lyon finished with ten, just as he did when I watched the previous test between the two sides, at Sydney in January 2020. By the end of the series, he had 530 test wickets, and until his injury at Lord’s last year had played 100 consecutive tests, which he would not have done had he been from England or New Zealand. The Australians do not look at the pitch and ask “do we need a spinner?”; their question is “who are our four best bowlers?”. A few weeks later, I shared the frustration of supporters in Somerset and elsewhere when Shoaib Bashir was left out of the first Championship game of the season in favour of a sixth dobbing seamer. Of course, allowing pitches to turn without the ECB reaching for the smelling salts and the points deductions would help.

The Basin continued to embrace its new status as a spinner’s paradise with a convert’s enthusiasm. In the Plunket Shield against Otago a couple of weeks later, 21 of the 30 wickets fell to spinners including eight for 41 for Michael Bracewell, another ex-keeper. We learned that Bruce Edgar, the former New Zealand opener who is Wellington’s director of cricket, did indeed receive a message from Jeetan Patel asking what the hell was going on.

Williamson and Nicholls Shine at the Basin

 New Zealand v Sri Lanka, Second Test, Basin Reserve, 17-20 March 2023

Scorecard

This was the 2,500th test match since it all began in Melbourne 146 years ago, and in New Zealand, at least, the format has never been so vibrant or appealing.

The most remarkable match that any of us have seen was followed just two weeks later in Christchurch by only the second occasion on which test-match victory was obtained off the last possible ball, as Kane Williamson hurled himself ahead of the throw to record the most valuable bye in cricket history.

When Ian Smith tailored his bespoke “by the barest of margins” description of the end of the Game of Which We Do Not Care to Speak in 2019, he could not have imagined that it would become an off-the-peg expression for use at home in the following few years.

Domestic cricket has been infected by the tension trend; Wellington’s games with Northern Districts this season have been won by one wicket and lost by two runs. Has any other ground staged games with one-wicket and one-run margins in the same season?

This test match was not a classic, but it contained much good cricket, almost all of it played by the home team. It was, even more than most cricket matches, full of statistical oddities. One of these was that it was first time since 1996 that New Zealand had selected a team with no left-armer as part of the attack. Dan Vettori, Trent Boult and Neil Wagner are the three main reasons for the sustained period of ambidextrousness and it was the latter's absence that ended it. Just as he was at the Basin against England, Wagner was crucially involved at the end of the Christchurch game, where he ignored injuries that would have put most of us in a wheelchair to complete the winning bye. He says that his test career is not over, and we all hope that he is right.

Doug Bracewell, cousin of Michael, son of Brendon, nephew of John, replaced Wagner, his first test appearance since 2016. There are a number of reasons for the long sabbatical, one being the unprecedented strength of New Zealand’s pace bowling in this period, another a run of injuries, some sustained in the early hours. A deceased cockatoo was also complicit.

Bracewell D also became the sixth player in the team with a double L in his name, but this may be mining the seam of statistical obscurity a little too deep.

The Basin Reserve pitch has sometimes been described in these columns as an early celebration of St Patrick’s Day, so, with the test match starting on that day, it was no surprise that something with the hue of an algae-covered pond was revealed when the covers were removed. We should all have learned by now that green pitches in New Zealand are fierce-looking dogs that roll over to have their tummies rubbed at the first opportunity. Sri Lanka learned this the hard way. An attack that had looked capable in Christchurch appeared to take the view that winning the toss had handed them a fistful of chips that could be cashed in simply by turning their arms over; in fact, great precision was required to extract any help that the pitch held within it.

Rajitha and Fernando were erratic in length; Kumara was more consistent, but only inasmuch as he was always far too short. There was also the wind, which Devon Conway described as the strongest he had experienced in his six years at the Basin. The quicker bowlers from the southern end will have felt as if they were marking time as they ran in, while for the spinners controlling flight was akin to taming an eagle. Later in the match Michael Bracewell tossed one up only for the gale to take it from its line on the stumps past the return crease for a wide.

Neither of New Zealand’s openers could blame the pitch for their fall. Tom Latham, on 21, pulled a catch straight to the only deep fielder.

Conway was in top form, his driving through the offside a thing of beauty, accounting for a good proportion of the 13 fours that contributed to his 78. Just when he looked booked in for a big score, Conway came down the pitch to off spinner Dhananjaya de Silva, but didn’t quite get there. The bowler took an athletic return catch.

Kane Williamson and Henry Nicholls were now together. At the start of the test season there was criticism of Williamson with foolish phrases such as “if he can be bothered to turn up” bandied about. Now free of the elbow injury that weighed him down for a while, he has produced scores of 132, 121 and, here, 215 in successive test matches, each of which were the foundation of a New Zealand victory. His average in winning test matches is higher than any except Bradman’s (which is almost 50 higher, of course). Already New Zealand’s leading test runscorer, Williamson passed 8,000 runs at the Basin.

Conversation turned to whether he, or Martin Crowe, is our greatest batsman (acknowledging that Bert Sutcliffe and Martin Donnelly both have their advocates). Crowe, for all his technical correctness, was part nature and part art, while Williamson is more science and engineering. Let us not forget that engineers also produce things of beauty, as Williamson did here, playing with the ease and smoothness of Sinatra crooning a classic. 

Henry Nicholls is not the Last Chance Saloon’s best customer. That must be Zak Crawley. But he has been there so often that they know his tipple  and have it waiting for him as he walks through the door. With Young and Phillips both challenging his place, Nicholls joined Williamson aware that he had to produce something notable to ensure that this was not his last test match.

He was dropped by debutant keeper Madushka on six, a chance similar to the critical miss of Williamson in Christchurch that brought about Dickwella’s exclusion here. Nicholls was also dropped on 92, a return catch to Jayasuriya, but had already restored his reputation by then. Dropped chances are outside a batter’s control, but they are a test of resilience under the sort of pressure that Nicholls found himself, and he passed emphatically. He was harsh on the short bowling that Sri Lanka persisted with, and accelerated as New Zealand pushed towards a declaration. He reached 200 from 240 balls, the first time that two New Zealanders had made double hundreds in the same innings. 

The third-wicket partnership was worth 363, two fewer than Williamson’s world-record sixth wicket stand with BJ Watling against the same opponents at the Basin in 2015, and 11 more than the one they beat: Watling and McCullum’s against India here the previous year. The New Zealand record for the third wicket remains 467 by Martin Crowe and Andrew Jones, again against Sri Lanka at the Basin, in 1991. 

That was the world record until surpassed by Sangakkara and Jayawardene’ 624 against South Africa in 2006. How Sri Lanka could have done with those two great players now. Even so, with Karunaratne, Mathews and Chandimal all with test averages around or above 40, we expected getting them out for under the follow on of 381 would be tricky.

Two wickets were lost in the 17 overs left on the second day after the declaration. Matt Henry showed how the new ball was best used on this pitch with a probing line and length to induce an edge from Fernando, then Conway took a spectacular catch at point to dismiss Mendis, Doug Bracewell’s first test wicket for six years.

The first session of the third day saw two quick wickets rewarding proficient opening spells from Southee and Henry, though Mathews could have left the one that he edged to Blundell. For the rest of the morning Karunaratne and de Silva demonstrated that serenity could arise from the application of a little technique and patience, and there seemed no reason why Sri Lanka should not work steadily towards at least batting for long enough to make the enforcement of the follow on out of the question.

But the common sense that had characterised the morning was swept away with the lunchtime leftovers, starting with Chandimal giving Michael Bracewell the charge, and Blundell an easy stumping, In Bracewell’s next over, de Silva also ventured down the pitch only to chip an easy catch to Southee close in at mid wicket. The inevitable foolish run out was added to the mix, a desperate Karunaratne holed out at long on as he ran out of partners and soon enough Sri Lanka had lost their last six wickets for 65 since lunch. 

Michael Bracewell became, somewhat improbably for one who was only an occasional bowler three years ago, the first New Zealand spinner to take three wickets in the first innings of a home test since Bruce Martin took four in successive games against England in 2013.

With a six-man attack, the first innings done in 67 overs and rain predicted for the fifth day, Tim Southee enforced the follow on. Had Sri Lanka’s second innings been their first, they might well have come out with a draw. The control and discipline, which had been largely absent apart from the Karunaratne/Chandimal partnership,now spread across the order.

It was too late for there to be tension, however, particularly after the forecast improved and a fifth day was guaranteed. For the spectators the rest of the game was like watching one of the Lord of the Rings movies that are put together just over the hill from the Basin. We knew how it would end, but it took an interminable time to do so. 

Again, two wickets fell before the close. Fernando flicked a loose catch to square leg. Karunaratne reached his second half century of the day before becoming the first of five successive Sri Lankans to fall for the fatal allure of the short-pitched delivery, Conway taking a very good catch on the square legside boundary as it came to him out of the sun. 

Mendis and Mathews both went tamely in the first quarter of an hour of day four, and we started making plans for an afternoon at leisure. However, Chandimal (again) and de Silva batted with excellent judgement and considerable flair before the former top edged to fine leg just before lunch. 

Madushka was resolute in a sixth-wicket partnership of 76, and appeared to have shepherded his partner to a deserved century, but de Silva, two short of a tenth test hundred, toe-ended a lap-sweep to give short leg an easy catch. He was bereft, but got a standing ovation anyway. Crowds are generous when they know that a win is in the bag. 

The last three wickets resisted for an admirable yet irritating 35 overs, showing grit and technique. The short ball had worked well for New Zealand, but a few more at the stumps in this period might have hastened the end as the Sri Lankan tail was better at the leave than their brethren higher up the order. 

If Tim Southee is to remain New Zealand’s captain, the ICC will have to consider including Google Earth into the DRS system to ensure that the ball is in the same picture as the bat. He blew his reviews on some notable non-events, the worst of which was for a caught behind that the unsighted leg slip appealed for, supported by neither the bowler nor the keeper. He is one for 23 in terms of successful appeals. 

There was also the wind, which freshened to the extent of the camera operators having to abandon their positions on the scaffolding at the southern end of the ground, returning us to 1970s one-end coverage. I half-expected Jim Laker’s voice on the highlights, telling us what a thrillin’ innin’s we were watching. 

Two slip catches completed the game as we went into the extra eight overs. New Zealand have now gone six years without losing a home series, and recent performances against Pakistan, England and Sri Lanka have restored our faith to some extent.

That concludes my cricket season 2022-23. A great test match and a good one will be treasured in the memory. I hope that the fixture list offers more opportunities to watch for domestic first-class and 50-over matches next season, when we have Australia and South Africa visiting for test matches.  

A Great Test Match: New Zealand v England, 2nd Test, Basin Reserve, 24-28 February 2023

 

Scorecard

As Richie Benaud would have said, “Blundell; Tucker; Anderson the man to go”.

Thus ended the finest test match that most of us have seen, a contest that joins Sydney 1894, Headingley 1981 and Kolkota 2001 as the only test matches to be won by a team following on; and Adelaide 1993 in being won by one run. One match on two of cricket’s most exclusive lists.

I was there (the three best words that anyone can write about a great sporting fixture), for the whole match, but let us focus on the extraordinary fifth day.

It began with England needing 210 more for victory with nine wickets standing, a situation that we New Zealanders would have grabbed thankfully had it been offered a day in advance, but which had become disappointing after the home team lost its last five wickets for 28.

The man out at the end of the fourth day was Zak Crawley, bowled through a gap big enough for a basketball. As a man of Kent I am naturally pleased to see the old club have a presence in the England team, but supporters of every county can propose a player or two who would have averaged more than 27 had they been given 33 tests. I’ll start: Darren Stevens. “James Hildreth” sings out from the Quantocks and the Mendips, and so on.

Ollie Robinson is in the great tradition of Sussex nightwatchmen inspired by Robin Marlar, apocryphally out second ball for six. Robinson took a single off the first ball of the penultimate over of the fourth day, so exposing Duckett, then attempted to put the ball over the Museum Stand before the scheduled close.

It was therefore no surprise when, early on the final day, Robinson scythed one in the air, finding Michael Bracewell under it.

Bracewell had been from triumph to disaster and was now making the return journey. On the first day he took the best slip catch that the Basin has seen in a long time, stretched full length parallel to the ground, collecting the ball in his left hand at the second attempt to dismiss Duckett.

But on the fourth day, Bracewell became a national villain when he was run out after omitting the most basic of cricketing protocols: grounding his bat when completing a run. Only five more were added to the total before New Zealand were all out, which left Bracewell’s face on the wanted poster seeking the man responsible for England’s target being fifty or so fewer than it might have been. What is more, he knew that, as the only spinner in the team, he was carrying a nation’s expectations, despite having been a serious bowler for only a couple of years.

Michael Bracewell had a good day, in the end.

It was when Ben Duckett was out six runs later, flashing at one outside the off stump off Henry, that we took the first tentative shuffle towards the edge of our seats. These days, whenever an English batter gets out to a shot that has not been in the MCC Coaching Book since Gladstone was prime minister, cynics are inclined to point to the moral failings of what, for convenience, we will call Bazball. This despite McCullum being responsible for reviving England’s test team from the frightened, failed state it was in less than a year ago. In fact, England’s approach to the chase was pretty conventional.

Tom Blundell took the catch. Second-highest scorer in both innings here, he has conducted more rescue operations in the past year than the average lifeboat crew. For once, he came in with what appeared to be a decent score on the board, 297 for five, but take the deficit into account and it was 71 for five, so it was carry on as normal. In England’s second innings, Blundell stood up to the quick bowlers more than I have seen any keeper do, and he did it superbly, like Godfrey Evans standing up to Alec Bedser.

Blundell put on 158 with Kane Williamson. For much of his career, you looked at the scoreboard 45 minutes after Williamson has come in and saw that he had 35, but couldn’t remember how he got them. For the time being he has lost this ability to accumulate by stealth, and here it was more of a battle, but the longer it went on the more fluent he became on his way to 132. The memories that this match gave us.

On the boundary, Neil Wagner waited. He may have been wondering if this was his last day as a test cricketer. England’s new, aggressive mindset had cost him 311 runs from just 50 overs, the trademark Wagner short-pitched delivery more of a threat to spectators on the boundary than it was to the batters. He had lost a few kph, just enough to take the aces out of the pack that he used to perform his trick that kidded his victims that he was genuinely quick. He had become Boxer, the carthorse from Animal Farm, whose “work harder” solution to every problem could no longer defy the advancing years.

Wagner came on first change. Ollie Pope swotted his third ball to mid-wicket boundary, and it seemed we would have to look elsewhere for our hero today. Confidence buttressed, Pope saw four more runs coming from the last ball of the over and shaped to cut, but Wagner was telling the old joke again. It was on Pope a tad quicker and a smidgen straighter than he anticipated. Latham took a good catch at second slip. Eighty for four.

Joe Root and Harry Brook were now together, the most reliable Yorkshire combo since Aunt Betty and puddings. Their first-innings partnership of 302 for the fourth wicket was the best batting that any of us had seen for a long time. Brook made 186 from 176 balls with a low level of risk and a near-perfect match of shot to delivery. The perfection of his placement suggested that he could earn a living threading needles.

In comparison to Brook, anything that might be said about Root’s innings is at risk of damning him with faint praise. At any other time in England’s test cricket history we would say that four an over, mostly on the first day, was a remarkable rate of scoring. It was a perfectly judged innings, and had New Zealand lost on the third or fourth day, as many of us expected, we would have treasured the memory of this test match for the batting of Root and Brook alone.

Root nudged the ball towards the gap between third slip and gully and seemed to set off. Maybe he had forgotten that Blundell was standing up to Southee, ready to collect Bracewell’s throw. It was Brook’s call, but it must be hard to tell your hero “no”. He didn’t face a ball.

With 173 to get and five wickets standing, the game had become New Zealand’s to win, but the combination of Root at his best and Stokes, who loves a cocktail of tension and pressure, was as good as the cricket world could offer in this situation.

A contact who spent time in the press box told us that the English writers are calling Stokes “Brearley”, and not in a nice way. If this is so they should be ashamed, so much has Stokes done for cricket in general and England’s cricket in particular. One of the many narratives of the epic story of this test match was that both Stokes (knee) and Henry (back) were struggling with injuries and pain that should properly have seen them in the dressing room attached to a small iceberg.

The tension and bottled-up emotion of the next three hours was worthy of Le Carré at his best. Every ball came wrapped in hope and fear, the balance for the home supporters ebbing away from the former until it seemed all gone. Root, his judgement making Solomon look a dabbler in the art, took on the role of run chaser and proceeded at close to a run a ball. He was harsh on Bracewell in particular. Stokes, cast against type, was putting the emphasis on defence, ready to take over the guns if Root went down.  

Southee was most effective in keeping the scoring rate down, and his effervescent first-innings 73 was critical in reducing the lead. It will seem a surprising observation to say that a knock of 49 balls that contained five fours and six sixes shows us (and ideally Southee himself) what a dusting of contemplation can do. His shot selection was more spot-on than at any time since his debut 77 in a lost cause at Napier in 2008, for which I was also present.

I wanted Wagner back on earlier. Root and Stokes had been reasonably respectful of him at the start of their partnership, as if they had heard a particularly apposite sermon on the dangers of temptation. Bracewell bowled admirably, but was always dependent on a batter’s error to take a wicket, which did not succeed in doing.

We didn’t see Wagner in the attack again until the target was below 60, and it seemed that our chance had gone. So depressed was the general mood that some people who had left their city-centre offices at 80 for five were sufficiently desperate as to contemplate returning to them.

Perhaps the gloomy miasma reached and infected Stokes. He took the fourth ball of Wagner’s first over back to be an invitation to disrupt the traffic to the Mt Victoria tunnel, but, from somewhere, Wagner summoned that extra bit of pace and up in the air it went, landing safely in the hands of Latham at backward-square leg.

Astonishingly, Root fell for the same old trick in Wagner’s next over, except that this one did not get up as much. Had the shot gone as planned it would have broken the Museum Stand clock and Root would have had his second hundred of the match, but instead it lobbed gently to Bracewell at mid on.

With 55 needed and three wickets left, the arrival of Stuart Broad at the crease was more likely to comfort the home, rather than the visiting, supporters. I recently re-read my unflattering view of Broad’s batting in the World Cup match between these teams in 2015, and thought it harsh (I compared his thinking to that of the local ovine population, to their benefit). Yet here he approached his task just as New Zealand were expecting and wanting, the only surprise being that it took him as long as nine balls to shovel a catch to deep third where, inevitably, Wagner was waiting. It needs to be said that it was a privilege to watch Broad and Anderson bowling together one last time in New Zealand.

Foakes and Leach were together with 43 needed and only Anderson to follow. Much of what happened in the remaining overs mystified me. I have never understood why, with two wickets left to win the game, a team would stop trying to get one of the incumbents out by conventional means, instead setting fielders on the boundary and relying on the batter making a mistake. But this, of all matches, is not in need of over-analysing.

Ben Foakes approached his task courageously and came so close to winning the game, yet amateur selectors continue to contemplate an England team without him. At the other end Jack Leach summoned the spirit of Headingley ’19 to give resolute support. The closer the target got, the bolder Foakes became. A pull to the mid-wicket boundary would have been caught by Bracewell, had he been on three metres further out. There was a no ball for three fielders behind square on the onside. Then were two successive fours off Wagner, the first of which might have decapitated umpire Tucker.

On and off the field, New Zealanders were struggling to hold their nerve as we counted the target down. Again, it appeared that all hope was lost. We were Tom Hanks, waiting to die on the raft in Castaway, all hope gone.

For the third time within the hour an English batter became over ambitious. With seven needed Foakes went for the big shot off Southee only to find the top edge. One of the best moments of spectating is when you follow a ball through the air and work out where it is going to fall. From my position high in the RA Vance Stand I could see that it would land about five metres inside the rope at fine leg, but that part of the boundary was obscured by television camera scaffolding, so I only at the last moment did I see Neil Wagner emerge, and throw himself towards the ball to take the catch. No possibility of drama on this day was omitted from its narrative.

In came Jimmy Anderson. Of course. That would be the story here, Anderson hitting the winning run. His clubbed four through mid on off Wagner to put England a single away from a tie supported this interpretation.

The next seven deliveries each encompassed the torment, guilt and despair of its own deadly sin. The fifth ball of Southee’s over was especially taxing as Leach made his only attempt to score in the over, stopped – just – by a diving Henry at mid on.

Then: Blundell; Tucker; Anderson the man to go, and it was done.

My Brooklyn correspondent, a man only a little younger than me, hurdled two chairs in the Long Room at the moment of victory. I myself leapt high in the air, several times, an expression of joy from which I had assumed myself to have retired in the late 1980s, but we all lost thirty years for a minute or two.

Strangers embraced, linked forever in a moment. One of the Basin regulars said that we would remember this day for the rest of our lives, and so we will. Given the choice between recalling this day and my own name, I will choose the former, with no hesitation at all.

Of all my days at the cricket, this was the best.

 

 

Back to the Future at the Cake Tin: New Zealand v England, ODI, the Cake Tin, 3 March 2018

Scorecard

“Shocking…terrible” – Paul Newman of the Daily Mail.

“Dreadful” – Scyld Berry of the Daily Telegraph.

Representative reactions from the British media about the pitch at the Cake Tin for the third ODI between New Zealand and England (both offered at an early stage of the contest). Yet this apparent travesty of a surface produced a wonderful game of cricket, tested different skills and thinking from the usual, and begat one of the finest one-day innings that it has been my pleasure to witness.

The pitch was different, certainly. Initial examination intimated that it had recently staged a performance of Riverdance, and the dust and dirt that sprang from it in the early overs suggested—one for the older reader here—that Wilson, Keppel and Betty would have been reasonable selections.

At some point during the 1967 blogging I wrote that it would be interesting to see players like Joe Root and Jonny Bairstow on the pitches of that era, and that I thought they would be successful by taking a more attacking approach. This very pair came together early in the England innings and it occurred to me that I was getting my wish: cricket getting into the De Lorean and going back in time. What happened was that, on the whole, class triumphed and the inadequate were exposed. It was brilliant.

New Zealand won the toss and put England in. Kane Williamson was back from injury, but Ross Taylor was out with a hip problem. Ish Sodhi came back for Lockie Ferguson. Mark Wood replaced David Willey for the visitors.

The first couple of overs did not reassure the batsmen. A couple from Southee went like leg breaks and Boult got one to rear like an unbroken stallion. It was surprising that England got as far as the eighth over before losing a wicket, Roy caught at slip by Guptill off Boult. 

Root came in and from the start timed the ball better than anybody else, Williamson apart, all day. It was at this point in my notes that I wrote “this is fascinating”, an observation that I could have made over and over again as the day went on.

The pitch got Root soon enough, when he went down the pitch to de Grandhomme and was caught at mid on by Sodhi. Bairstow was bowled by a Sodhi googly and it seemed that 1967 was having its revenge. The modern-day players were disappearing from the photo.

Now Morgan and Stokes came together. Both found it difficult to get going, but had the sense and skill to adjust and compromise as only the best players can. Stokes will never take 73 balls to score 39 again, but will play many higher scoring innings of less value and craft.

What do we think of Stokes (who bears the modern mark of shame—a plain bat bereft of sponsor’s logo)? For me, a drunken brawl with idiots at 3 am should have less bearing on his status as an international cricketer than mocking a severely disabled young person does.

New Zealand bowled well in this period, giving England few loose balls, just as well as one of the few that was delivered Morgan put in the stand. But Morgan and Stokes didn’t get out until the 36^th over, by which time they had put on 71 and the score was 139 for four, making achievable what they had identified as a decent target.

The remaining six wickets added only 96 runs in the last 14 overs, showing how difficult acceleration was. But everybody chipped in. All of the top nine reached double figures, whereas only three of New Zealand’s did. The home side remains too reliant on a couple of players doing really well in lieu of a team effort, which means crossing the ravine on a tightrope instead of a bridge.

De Grandhomme was the best bowler, with one for 24 off ten. His little dobbers contain more skill and guile than is at apparent. I thought that Williamson persevered for too long with Munro’s very slow-medium. He was taken for almost six an over with little risk to the batsmen, an advantage to England in the circumstances. Santner never returned after conceding 12 from two overs, even though he was turning it. That seemed a mistake at the time, more so as the spinners had such an impact on the New Zealand innings.

New Zealand’s target was 235, a decent target on a 1967 pitch. Guptill went in the same manner as Root had earlier, bringing Doc Brown aka Kane Williamson to the middle.

At the other end Colin Munro was playing an innings as grotesque as I have seen in many a long day. He began by refusing to adapt his usual gung ho approach to the occasion, and came close to being out pretty much every ball, twice on one occasion, when he set off on a suicidal run as a decent lbw decision was turned down. He has a first-class average of 50, but forgets. When he started playing properly he was as adept as Williamson at nudging the singles. He didn’t deserve 50, but did merit 49, which is what he got.

Mark Chapman was next in. A few weeks ago I watched him make 117 from 104 balls for Auckland against Wellington, including some of the finest driving through the offside that I have seen for quite some time. Since then, Chapman has been part of the T20 team. In one match Ross Taylor, veteran of 360-plus international appearances, came to the wicket with Chapman already there. Chapman met him halfway and proceeded to lecture him on how to go about his task, which was generally thought to be endearing. Ah, the confidence of youth! But too often it eclipses judgement, as here. He was perhaps the only person in the ground who couldn’t see the inevitable outcome of charging down the pitch at just about everything. He’d put the lot on the 100-1 outsider.

Nicholls and Latham both went lbw for ducks. Good balls, and not terrible shots, but both perhaps halfway out in their minds before they got to the crease.

Next, de Grandhomme. At this point it would be as well to be clear that my earlier remarks about his skill and guile apply exclusively to his bowling. Where cunning and dexterity are called for, the bat in his hands is as an iPad in those of a caveman. To nobody’s surprise he holed out at long on for three.

Moeen Ali took three of the wickets as New Zealand subsided. He has been foolishly written off by some after his disappointing tour of Australia, but has too much class to be cast aside. As usual, he provided an intelligent, articulate analysis of his performance after the game.

With six down and 132 more needed, Santner joined Williamson. Santer had stepped up a level in the first match of the series, in Hamilton. There, he had looked at sea at first, struggling to score at all. But he kept his head, picked the right ball to hit, and got more power from his slender frame than it looked capable of offering.

Here, he showed the same qualities in even more testing conditions.  He began carefully, waiting 15 balls before picking the right ball to attack, successfully. That was how he went on, resourceful enough to keep the singles going and with the judgement and patience to wait his moment—just twice more—to find the boundary.

So we come now to Kane Williamson, who played one of the finest against-the-odds, difficult-conditions innings I have ever seen. Of those present, only Joe Root might have matched him, as it was an innings that could be played only by a batsman of extraordinary talent, judgement and resolve. Williamson reduced risk without disregarding opportunity. Because he is so strong all around the field it was impossible for England, well as they bowled, to constrain him. Some said that the pitch eased in this period, but it just appeared that way with Williamson at the crease.

From resignation the mood of the crowd slid towards hope, then confidence. Ripples of applause for singles became rivers, boundaries were acclaimed. The fifty partnership came up in the 36^th over. With seven to go, 49 were needed. It was gripping.

For the first time, New Zealand moved ahead of the Duckworth-Lewis par score. With 29 balls left, 36 were needed. Williamson hit the ball hard back down the pitch in the air. Woakes changed direction just quickly enough to get a fingertip on the ball. It was hit so straight that it barely needed deflection to break the stumps with Santner stranded. He had scored 149 runs in the series at that point, and it was his first dismissal.

Tim Southee hit one four, but was caught trying a repeat. Twenty-two were needed from twelve balls. Williamson reached a hundred with a four from the first of these and was acclaimed. He was perhaps the least excited person in the ground at that moment, but these landmarks do tend to disrupt the flow and only three came from the rest of Tom Curran’s over.

Fifteen were needed from the last over. A six from the third ball left seven from three. A two followed, but the full toss that was the fifth ball went to straight to mid off. A couple of metres wide or high and the scores would have been level. An edge from the last ball would have tied the game, but no contact was made, so England took a two-one lead in the series.

None of the critics of the Cake Tin pitch have made the connection between calling it “dreadful” and “terrible” with the lamentable performances of the England A team in the Caribbean. As long as English cricket takes such a narrow view of what constitutes a good pitch, its teams will continue to be exposed overseas and its players will not develop as fully as they otherwise might. I read just a few days ago that Somerset are pulling back from their recent practice of producing turning pitches under threat of a points fine, a change that would further constrain the learning of young cricketers, and make the game less interesting.

Most of the critics mentioned that the Cake Tin pitch is a drop-in, something seen as a southern hemisphere aberration. In fact, the problem with drop-ins (drops-in?) is their sameness, a tendency to the bland and slow, seen at its worst at Melbourne in the Boxing Day test. How refreshing for a drop-in that has its own character.

ODIs are played in series. Ideally, each venue should present a different challenge: one fast, one slow, one road, one that seams and one like this one.

More “terrible” and “shocking” pitches please.